


Here Comes the Sun

by chameleoncake



Series: I Want to Hold Your Hand [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:42:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9208112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chameleoncake/pseuds/chameleoncake
Summary: He really liked - no, loved - no, adored the idea of it, being her "everything".Inspired by "Here Comes the Sun" by The Beatles.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I thought this would be fun, since, even though these two are canon, we don't get to see much of their relationship. 
> 
> ITGOTREALANGSTYREALFAST.
> 
> (I'm gonna do smut and gay stuff later in this series. Don't you worry. Also, I realized that, so far, all of these stories include someone crying. Oops?)

Neville had never been much of anything. He'd had average marks in school. He wasn't anything special appearance-wise. He was terribly awkward in social situations. He would surely have no legacy - would surely be lost in history. Maybe that was why he was so caught of guard that one summer evening.

They'd been lying in bed. She was reading the Prophet, his head settled in her shoulder. Sometimes, they fell asleep like that. He treasured those moments - moments of quiet, of just being together - more than anything. "You know," she said, pushing her reading glasses up, "I really love you." He looked up at yer with narrowed eyes. Where was this coming from? Hannah had never been the type to just...say that. Out of nowhere. When she said it, it was in moments her love for him was all she could think about.

"Yeah, well, I love you t—"

"No," she said, setting her paper down and glaring at him. "I really love you. More than you know. You're...you're my everything, Neville." She placed a hand on his cheek, as

he kept staring blankly at her. Taking that hand in his, he propped himself up by his free arm.

"I - are you okay?"

"More than okay," she said with a smile.

So, he leaned over her to turn the bedside lamp off before lying back down.

Just before he started to drift off, he found her hand again.

"I think I like being your everything," he said.

"I know."

 

* * *

 

Neville had never felt much of anything. Other than embarrassment and shame. Occasionally relief.

So maybe that's why he was so overwhelmed when he fell for Hannah.

Neither of them had ever really noticed each other in school. They’d shared a load of classes together, and heard each other’s names about a thousand times, but neither really paid any mind to the other.

Then, years later, he stumbled into the Leaky Cauldron. He soon wouldn’t be able to remember why.

Because he spotted her at work. Her work.

He’d heard from Luna and a few others that someone from their year owned the inn now, but had just brushed it into the back of his mind. Like most things.

But now, seeing this humble-looking blonde levitating cups and plates up from tables as she brushed dust off her apron, he looked back on another blonde’s words. Vague splotches of ink appeared in his head. Words from one of Luna’s many - _many -_ letters.

_Do you remember that Abbott girl in your year? The one from Hufflepuff? Harry says she runs The Leaky Cauldron now. Makes you wonder what everyone else is doing, doesn’t it?_

And looking back on those words, looking at 'that Abbott girl' standing just a few feet away from him, looking at the first name the sorting hat had called that first year, looking at _her_ , he could only see the rest of his life.

So he said something.

“Er - Hannah?”

Nothing great, but something.

 

* * *

 

And people cared about Neville, sure, but no one had considered his problems a top priority. In fact, he’d _been_ someone’s problem too many times to count.

So maybe that was why his heart was going to burst from relief when she held him in the snow as he cried. Just held him, as he lay in her arms sobbing.

It had been a nightmare. He’d gotten this idea stuck in his thick head that, maybe, after all this time, after all he’d been through…

Certainly he could handle visiting his parents.

He was a grown man now. Surely it was time.

He even talked the idea over with Hannah. She should have warned him. Why didn’t she say anything? Why didn’t she tell him how stupid he was being? No, she just hugged him and asked if he wanted her to come along.

He did. She held his hand through the whole visitation, and he couldn’t tell who was holding on harder.

He should have known what to expect. Of course they looked horrid. Of course they didn’t make any sense. Of course they didn’t know who he was.

He almost ran out of the building, and Hannah still didn’t let go. He felt himself falling into some sort of downward spiral that he couldn’t get out of no matter how hard he struggled, how violently he squirmed, how loud he screamed. He kept walking until he felt icy air hit his hands. He sunk to the snow-covered pavement. Reacting more quickly and with more purpose than he’d even seen her do anything, she fell to her knees too, and she and pulled that broken man towards her. She was just as broken, both for her own reasons and for his. And she cried for the both of them that day.

 

* * *

 

Neville had never felt like anyone. He’d never quite figured out who he was.

And maybe that was why he loved being her everything.

 


End file.
